Silhouette

There’s this girl I knew.

From yesteryears.

 

Wheatish skin. A clear face.

Just past her teens.

Black rimmed glasses. Round. Or square.

Hair tied in a ponytail.

In shirts and jeans.

At times a bouquet in summer frocks.

Hoops on ears, watch on the wrist,

A book in hand

Just by herself

In libraries,

Beside the lake,

Walking boulevards

I knew her well.

 

You told me once

They don’t exist

This girl I knew,

And Howard Roark.

You told me once

Of realities ;

And asked for me.

 

But she was so real...

In the evening tram

At a single seat

Touching streetlights with her dreaming eyes ;

In the balcony

On tempest nights

Painting rainscapes on a greyscale sky ;

On the rooftop tank

Lying with a friend

Stargazing constellations of her mind ;

She is so real

Even this day,

This girl I knew…
But never met.

Knot

Knot of words...
A knot of words...
Are still waiting
On the moment you left.

Come untangle me
And let them flow again
Like a brook
Or midnight tears.


(me)


শব্দজট

অবরুদ্ধ শব্দজট
রুদ্ধবাক শব্দেরা সকলে,
তোমার বিদায় লগ্নে
পড়ে  আছে স্বেচ্ছাবন্দী হয়ে।

ফিরে এসে একবার
মুক্ত করো, খুলে দাও,
আবার ছুটুক তারা
ক্ষীণ স্রোতস্বিনী ধারে,
অথবা গভীর কোন
মধ্যরাতে, চোখভাঙ্গা
অশ্রুর প্রলয়ে।


(Baba)